


The Things We Lost To The Flames

by SupernaturalPhoenix



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Faunas Oobleck, Gen, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalPhoenix/pseuds/SupernaturalPhoenix
Summary: Yang struggles to move forward from her trauma over losing her arm but one of her teachers understands more than she thinks.
Relationships: Bartholomew Oobleck & Yang Xiao Long, Bartholomew Oobleck/Peter Port
Kudos: 22





	The Things We Lost To The Flames

The house was quiet. Too quiet to settle Yang's nerves. The silence allowed her mind to retreat back into itself- to places she wished never existed. Then again, she hadn't been able to find anything that wasn't just white noise to her thoughts. She slid out of bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes and made her way out of her room. She didn't think she'll go back to sleep that night.

She was especially careful not to make any noise on the way down the stairs. She really, really didn't want to wake her dad; or worse her _teachers_. The evening in the kitchen with them was... interesting. She had no idea her dad was even friends with them, so running into them in her home was unexpected, to say the least. But it had also been somewhat enlightening.

But it definately didn't fix all her problems. Which lead her out of bed in the middle of the night. She didn't bother to turn on the lights; that would wake someone up and she knew her way around the house like the back of her hand. Her night vision was improving more and more with how much time she spent awake at night.

She stole into the kitchen. And froze. Maybe it was just her still slightly blurry eyes or a trick of her own mind but, it looked like there was someone in the kitchen. She leapt into a defensive stance, but when she spoke her voice was shaky.

"Wh- who's there?!"

She could feel herself spiralling, losing control. It was closing in on her, heart pounding, lungs burning. She had to fight or- or-

"I'm sorry, miss Xiao long. I didn't mean to surprise you."

Yang loosened her stance and let herself relax. "Doctor Oobleck?"

She flicked on the light switch and squinted against the sudden brightness. Sure enough, the tall green haired man was leaning against the counter, a steaming mug in his hands. He was dressed in dark green sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt. As Yang's eyes adjusted, she noticed that he looked... haggard. Dark shadows hung under his slightly bloodshot eyes, highlighted by his pale skin. Yang wondered if he'd looked that worn earlier.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked, stepping further into the room.

Oobleck gave her a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Peter snores. I couldn't sleep through it."

Yang recognised his half hearted joke to be a deflection away from a bigger issue. She let it slide. She wasn't going to push her teacher for details on his private life.

"I hope I didn't wake you." Oobleck said quietly, staring intently at his mug.

"You didn't," Yang assured, "I was already awake."

Oobleck said nothing, but acknowledged her words with a vague huff. Yang debated going back to bed and just leaving Oobleck alone, but something in her compelled her not to. So instead she sat down at the table. Oobleck watched her, slightly warily- but he didn't move or say anything. It was the stillest Yang had ever seen. It worried her, solidifying her decision to stay up.

"Is that coffee?"

"Hmm? Yes, it is." Oobleck replied after a long pause.

"It's the middle of the night. Are you sure that's the best drink to be having right now?" Yang asked.

Oobleck shrugged. "Probably not, but... it's just habit at this point."

They slipped into another spell of silence. This time, however, Oobleck was the first to break it. "Miss Xiao long, you don't have to-"

"You can call me Yang." Yang interrupted. "I think we're past 'Miss Xiao long' at this point. Besides, you used to call us by our first names a lot- like in Mountain Glenn."

"I did, didn't I? Peter says I do this when I'm trying to distance myself, avoid calling people by their names."

"Are you trying to distance yourself?" Yang asked, her eyes boring into him across the room.

"Probably. I've long given up on attempting to psycho-analyze myself. I usually end up feeling worse."

Yang had no idea what to say to that and let the silence take hold again. It was heavy and awkward. Yang tapped her fingers lightly on the table, whilst Oobleck sipped his coffee.

"Hey, Doctor Oobleck. Can I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did."

Yang rolled her eyes. "That's really not funny. But, why were you in here in the dark?"

Oobleck sighed heavily, eyes cast down to avoid meeting Yang's gaze. "I couldn't sleep and I just... needed... space. But I hoped not to wake anyone up."

Yang could relate. It was, of course, the same reason she was down in the kitchen. "Yeah, but how did you even make coffee in the dark anyway? It's not like you've memorised our kitchen."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Oobleck's mouth. But his hand was shaking around the mug and Yang noticed the subtle hitch in his breathing.

"I believe I told you this in one of your first classes with me; faunas have nearly perfect sight in the dark. Don't tell me you've forgotten already."

That was most definitely not the answer Yang had been expecting. She stuttered, all too aware she was gaping at her teacher. "But- you're not- are you? A faunas?"

Oobleck took a long sip of coffee, still refusing to look up at Yang.

"Do you wanna come and sit down?" Yang asked, gesturing to the chair across from her. She had a feeling they were going to be there for a long while and wanted them both to be more comfortable. Encouraging Oobleck to sit down seemed like a good start. He hesitated before shuffling across the room and folded his long limbs up as he slid into the chair. Then it was Yang's turn to feel the other scrutinising stare.

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, you know." she said.

"I do know that. But, I think you should hear what I have to say. I understand a lot of what you're going through."

Yang flinched. Oobleck's words were like salt to her wounds. She had heard that so many times; that they understood, that they were there for her. She snapped back at him before she even realized it.

"I doubt that."

Oobleck didn't seem at all offended, just... patient. "I know it doesn't seem like I would but... that feeling of confusion, of not understanding who you are, of knowing who you used to be is gone, of not being able to even look in the mirror. I know that all too well."

Then he rolled up his sleeves and held his arms out to her. Yang couldn't help but gasp. Red, vivid scars marred the white skin, raised and jagged.

"What happened?" she whispered. She mentally slapped herself. She hadn't meant to ask at all, knowing how it felt to be asked that question. But Oobleck had showed her when he hadn't needed to, so she hoped it would be okay.

"My feathers were ripped out. I am indeed a faunas; a humming bird to be precise." He said, voice carefully measured and even.

"That.. makes a lot of sense; you being a humming bird." Yang said quietly, without really meaning to. The compulsion to say something was too strong and she allowed her mouth to improvise. Oobleck didn't seem to care about her comment.

"I was 8 years old. The wounds got infected and made the scarring worse, and they've grown with me."

"8?" Yang repeated in horror, "That's so _young_..."

"I know. But one man was so prejudiced against people he believed inferior to him that he was willing to maim and torture innocent children."

" _Children_..."

Oobleck nodded. "I don't know if he... did this to any others, but he- there was a girl there with me. Her name was Lucia. We were _there_ for two years, in his garage. But he'd turned it into some kind of torture room."

If Yang had thought Oobleck was pale before, he was positively white now. He looked shaky and a little sick under the pallor.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." Yang said.

"No, I suppose not," Oobleck said softly, still faintly nauseous looking, "And your father wouldn't want you to hear about this."

"Well, I think we've established that I'm an adult and can make my own choices," Yang retorted, "And I'd like to hear as much as you want to tell me."

Oobleck smiled. "There's not much beyond that. After two years, someone finally got suspicious enough to break into the garage when-" Ooblecked shuddered slightly, " _He_ was gone. It's quite blurry after that. I've repressed a lot of the aftermath. There were a lot of police interviews and examinations. I was in hospital for a month."

"What happened to the guy? And Lucia?" Yang asked.

"He was arrested. It was an easy trial. Lucia and I were proof enough, and the pictures of the garage... He died in prison about 15 years ago." Oobleck replied. His hand clenched tightly around the mug still in his grip. The coffee had gone cold.

"What about Lucia?" Yang pressed cautiously. She had a terrible feeling the answer was nothing good.

"She died... The trauma was too much for her, and though her family tried their best to help her, she committed suicide when we were 19. I heard about it on the news. I still wish I could have gone to her funeral, but we lost contact."

"I'm sorry." Yang murmured. There were tears blooming in Oobleck's eyes and she felt her own start to burn.

"Don't be. I've come to accept it, though I blamed myself for a long time."

"What changed?"

"I realised that nothing would have made her forget what was done to her; especially not the boy who was a constant reminder of her past. Lucia made her choice, for better or worse. I have to respect and accept that or I probably would've made the same choice." Oobleck explained. With a shaky hand, he rolled his sleeves back down to cover the scars again.

"Peter helps to," He added, "Every day. He reminds me of everything good that I have left."

"It sounds like you really care about him." Yang said. Her mind pushed Blake into her thoughts. It stung.

"Well, I would hope that I do, given that we've been together for 17 years." Oobleck smiled, a light, teasing tone to his voice.

"You have?" Yang said. She honestly didn't know why that surprised her so much, after all the revelations tonight. Especially with how well the two got on and how often they were together.

"We have. We usually keep it from the students, but you're not really our student anymore. I don't think Peter will mind too much."

"Does he really snore?" Yang asked, a grin twitching on her face.

"Oh, yes. Like a freight train."

Yang looked down at her stump. Her smile slipped from her lips and despair took its place. Behind her eyes, her mind flashed with images of amber eyes, jet hair and the blade if a katana. Pain lanced through her chest; a pain that was becoming more and more familiar to her.

"That sounds nice. Having someone there like that."

Oobleck's eyes were deep with sympathy and understanding. "Yes. And I love him all the more for it. But it took a long time for me to find him. I know what suffering alone is like."

Tears burned Yang's eyes as she fought to hold them back. "But she _left_ me."

Oobleck didn't press or question her. "That is something you have to accept and move on from. People will run away, they will choose to leave, or they will be taken away. It will always hurt. But that is an unfortunate part of life. Fighting against it will not make it better." 

"How-" Yang's voice cracked and she swallowed before speaking again, "How did you become okay with what happened? With the scars?"

Oobleck sighed and was quiet for a long time. "It was hard. It took me years before I... adjusted. I couldn't look at my arms or sleep at night without screaming. But eventually the nightmares started to fade. I still get them, and I likely always will. You probably will too, I'm afraid to say. Memories are like that.

"The scars took a long time to accept. Even now, I don't want people to see. But eventually I realised they were part of who I was and they make me who I am. I lost a part of myself but my scars remind me that my experiences didn't kill me. That despite my trauma, I'm still here and I'm still fighting."

He took a long shaky breath before speaking, eyes meeting Yang's intensely. "Yang, I wish I could tell you that there is an easy way ahead. That there's some simple trick to overcome this. But there isn't. How you move ahead is entirely up to you. But there are people around who want to help you."

Yang nodded and slowly stood up. "Thanks, Doctor Oobleck. This helped."

He smiled. "Good. I'm glad I could help. I think it's still early enough that we might be able to get some sleep."

Yang laughed a little. "Even through Professor Port's snoring? And the coffee?"

Oobleck smiled back. "I've put up with Peter's snoring for the past 17 years. I can survive one more night. As for the coffee; well, one cup is nothing to me. I can sleep with that quite easily. Good night, Yang."

"Good night, Doctor. Thanks again."

With that, Yang made her way back up the stairs as Oobleck disappeared back into the guest bedroom. 

They both managed a good few hours of sleep that night.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Bastille song 'Things we lost in the fire.'


End file.
